Sherlocknado
by chauffeuredinthetardis
Summary: When a mysterious tragedy destroys a group of beachgoers, it's up to Sherlock and Watson, along with their pals Lestrade, Donovan, and Anderson to go find out who the killer is. The result? A road trip filled with laughs, cries, jam, and stuffed dinosaurs. Will they survive a threat even more terrifying and theatrical than Moriarty...the dreaded Sharknado?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One-A Dark and Stormy Night

John Watson sat up in his chair, reading the paper, as he often did on these somber yet tension-filled evenings at his flat at 221B Baker Street. Yet something about tonight felt different. A storm outside began to rage furiously, rain and wind tormenting the flat with a kind of eerie warning. Because something, something was coming. And no, it wasn't him at the sight of Sherlock in the purple shirt of sex. Although, DAYUM, thought Watson, raising an eyebrow and blushing.

"Quite a rager tonight, isn't it John?" said Sherlock, not bothering to look up from his microscope.

"Oh yes, certainly." John said, sexily eating jam with a spoon, hoping Sherlock would look up and notice. After five good minutes of dragging his tongue up and down the spoon while squinting his eyes back and forth seductively, he took a break to make some tea. It had been quite awhile since Sherlock had gotten a case worth looking at, and the boredom was beginning to eat them alive. To pass the time, John had been catching up on his reading, while Sherlock was marathoning Pretty Little Liars on Netflix.

Sherlock looked up from his microscope at the next crackling boom of Thunder. "Liars time!" He said with a mischievous smile, opening his laptop. "John, I just," he said, tears pooling at his cheekbones, because they were so defined the tears couldn't get past them, "These girls understand what it's like to text murderers all the time, they just…_they get it_ John."

"I know, Sherlock, I know." John said. Suddenly Sherlock's phone beeped. He pulled it out. "YIPEE-KAI-AYYY JOHN. WE'VE GOT A CASE!" Sherlock said, jumping out of his chair and nearly knocking over a pile of magazines. "We've got to go to the riverside, right now."

"Jesus Sherlock. You sound like that handsome bloke who was on Top Gear last week."

Sherlock scoffed. "THAT bloody idiot? Please. He got car jacked, of all things."

The couple raced out of the flat and flagged down a cab. The weather was still storming and brewing with impossible force.

"The riverside? In this weather?" The cabby asked with a tone of bitter mockery and suspicion.

"Yo. Yo. Shut the hell up man don't judge I shot a cabby once you know." John said, giving the cabby a glare that one only sees on the face of a mother hedgehog when separated from her young.

"Yeah." Sherlock said, doing a vulcan salute. "Street cred."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two-A Tragedy

Sherlock and John had to struggle to close the doors of the cab against the wind as they walked out onto the beach. As Lestrade, Anderson, and Donovan approached them, John and Sherlock observed the scene behind them.

"It's as bad as it looks." Lestrade said. "We found twenty-one bodies here this afternoon, all torn to pieces. And now the whole beach is covered in gallons of red, sticky-"

"Jam?" John intercepted. "That's not, I mean, I know it wouldn't be, but, is it by any chance-?"

"NO, Dr. Watson." Lestrade said gruffly, losing his shit as he always does. "It's blood."

Sherlock scanned the scene carefully, and then began to walk closer. The bodies really were in awful shape. They were torn up in ways no human could ever manage.

"Well." Sherlock said, preparing to give his explanation to the Scotland Yard team. "There usually are only twenty or so people on this beach at a time, so whatever came here killed everyone in sight. There was no escape. Also, if look at the trees and shrubbery surrounding the area, much of that is destroyed as well, so-"

Sherlock looked up suddenly to see Anderson holding a camera up to his face. "Anderson! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!?"

"Well, you talk really fast, and it's good to have this knowledge on record, so we're recording you deducing for the files. It's Lestrade's idea, not mine." Anderson said. Lestrade only shrugged.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and decided to tolerate everyone's stupidity anyway. "John's the only one around here who ever even has an inkling of understanding as to what's going on."

John smiled at the camera proudly as it zoomed in on his face.

"For God's sake John, you're not on the office." Sherlock snapped.

John looked at the camera again, with an even more knowing grin.

"Anyway," Donovan said "How are we going to find out who the killer is?"

Sherlock looked up dramatically, flipping up his coat collar and mentally sharpening his cheekbones in the way that made John's pupils dialate with desire. "Whatever it is that killed these people…we're going to have to chase it down."

"It could be anywhere in England by now." Donovan said, in her pessimistic tone that practically screams 'I'm so pathetic I suck Anderson's dick on weekends.'

"Exactly." Sherlock said. "That's why we're going on a road trip. Anderson, I assume you'll let us use your van?"

Anderson looked down bashfully. "See, I would, but there's some stuff in there that's actually kind of personal and-"

"Excellent. Everyone, get in Anderson's van. It's time for a road trip." Sherlock ordered. Soon, right as they were about to open the door, Lestrade noticed one person was missing.

"Hey." He said. "Where's John?"

"There he is," said Sherlock. "Over there holding that…that…"

John approached the group, taking a sand-covered dismembered leg out of his mouth and throwing it onto the ground. "Okay I'm _pretty_ sure it's blood and not jam, but lingonberry jam has a very peculiar taste, they're Swedish berries you know, so maybe it's just a bunch of dead people who happen to be covered in really stale lingonberry-"

"Get in the van Dr. Watson." Lestrade said. But what awaited them inside the van would be the strangest thing yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3-Anderson's Confession

"I'm driving." Donovan said. "The back of this van scares the hell out of me."

"What do you mean it-" Watson started, but was interrupted by Lestrade.

"DINOSAURS? IS THIS SOME KIND OF BLOODY JOKE ANDERSON?"

Donovan only smirked. "I told you so." She said with a resigning sigh.

The other four men piled into the back of the van rather uncomfortably. There were no seats, but four beanbag chairs in a circle. The walls were completely plastered with pictures of dinosaurs, while the floors were covered in what must have been forty dinosaur stuffed toys. The group sat staring at each other in awkward silence as Sgt Donovan began driving up the road.

"It's clearly a kink." Sherlock said, smirking. "There's no other logi-"

Anderson suddenly let out a whimper, and then burst into tears. "I'm sorry I just…I just…" John pulled out a tissue for Anderson and put his hand compassionately on his shoulder, being the caring army doctor that he was. It kind of turned Sherlock on. But not enough for him to cry about it, I mean really.

John took a deep breath. "Anderson. It is a little bit weird. Why don't you just…take us through how this started. Some guy talk."

Anderson took a few more deep breaths and held tight to a stegosaurus wearing a gimp mask and holding a riding crop. "It all started with…with…"

"Started with what, Anderson?" John said, his blue eyes clouding with understanding.

"This episode of Doctor Who…with…with…dinosaurs."

"Go on."

Anderson inhaled again deeply, wiping tears from his eyes. "Well, you see, I've never found anyone. I'm alone in this world except for when I hook up with Sally and my dinosaurs. And it's always been my life dream to go back in time and actually get to meet one, you know?"

"Yes. I see." John said. Sherlock and Lestrade glanced at each other uneasily.

"Well, I could never go back and see dinosaurs with Donovan…she doesn't really…understand them like I do. But in the episode, there was this character, and he was absolutely brilliant. His name was John Riddell, and he was from the early nineteen-hundreds, and gorgeous, and soon all I could think about was him. Sometimes I'll stay up for hours just thinking about a foursome between me, John Riddell, Donovan, and maybe a very friendly and horny t-rex. I just-"

"Okay, okay, okay." Lestrade said, holding his hand up. "That's enough of that. Why don't you just ask this bloke out for a pint again?"

"Because he's not real Lestrade. He's a Doctor Who character. Were you even listening?" Sherlock said with an eye roll.

"Oh…sorry." Lestrade said. "Well I'm sorry he's not real Anderson." Lestrade looked at him sincerely, and they were both hit with a sudden pang of sadness and felt a strange and unexplainable connection as they met eyes.

Lestrade took a fluffy brontosaurus and rested his head on it.

"You know I rub my dick on that." Anderson said.

"FUCK YOU ANDERSON." Lestrade said, throwing the dinosaur out the window.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Donovan continued to drive down the road, no other signs of a possible murderer anywhere in sight.

"You think we could stop?" Anderson moaned. "I'm getting really hungry, and maybe we can find some people who might know what happened."

"That's actually a really good idea Anderson." said John. "Let's stop at Shell Cliff, that's the beach town coming up in a few miles."

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he deleted more of Mycroft's pointless texts from his phone.

In a few minutes, they were in the idyllic beach town of Shell Cliff. The sun was just about to set, making everything a warm gold. A beach was settled in the distance, surrounded by rocky cliffs. And in front of them lay a street filled with shops and restaurants.

"I'm starved." said Lestrade. "Let's go."

The group sat down at a table at a ramshackle beach grill and began to look over menus. Suddenly, a familiar voice jumped in.

"AHHYYY! SHERLOCK!" said Angelo, as he rushed over to bring them glasses of water. "I see you've come to see my new restaurant!"

"You own this place?" Sherlock asked.

Angelo nodded proudly. He leaned into Sherlock and whispered, "You know…carjacking money…"

John was struck with a sudden epiphany. "Oh my god…it was you who carjacked that handsome bloke on Top Gear, wasn't it?"

Angelo stepped back a few inches. "You know…I get you lemon for the water. Lemon, eh?"

John rolled his eyes. Sherlock was sitting with his hands pressed against his forehead and his eyes closed. Obviously in his mind palace.

"It just doesn't make sense!" Sherlock said. "What kind of murderer could do that kind of damage?"

Angelo came back with the lemons and a look of horror on his face. "You talk about the beach murder, eh? All over the news. They say it's a serial killer, but no, I know exactly what it was."

"Really?" said Donovan. "What?"

Suddenly Angelo was no longer the theatrical criminal matchmaking waiter they used to see, but a different man. A man with a terrible secret and a past that nibbled at his soul like a rat eating a slice of provolone cheese.

"When I was a boy…in Italy…there was a legend, my grandfather used to tell me, yes? It was about a terrible force that killed with no mercy…the Sharknado."

Lestrade let out a hearty laugh. "What, a _sharknado_? A tornado filled with _sharks_?"

Angelo's face froze. "It is not a laughing matter. One day, as a young boy, I was sitting on the beach, when all of a sudden, huge Sharknado come from out of the sky, shark jump out, eat my grandfather in one bite. WHOMP. He gone. I have never been the same man since."

"That can't possibly be true Angelo." Sherlock scoffed. "I mean, sharks going round and round a tornado like a teddy bear?"

Angelo's face turned cold again. "You laugh now, Mr. Holmes, but I _know_ that there is only one thing that could have killed those people on the beach. And it'll be back. You must be careful."

Lestrade and Donovan gave each other questioning looks, and Anderson was trembling with fear.

Suddenly the old Angelo they knew returned. He turned to John. "Ah, now, what can I get for you tonight sir?"

"I'd like some jam and milk please." said John.

Angelo began to look frustrated. "You know, I have man just like you come in here yesterday. He had date with trench coat too. He say he want pie, I say I cannot give you pie, it is not on the menu, but he demanded that-"

"Fine, fine," John said. "I'll have the chicken pasta."

Lestrade and Donovan giggled.

"AND I'M NOT HIS DATE!"

Sherlock smirked. "Yet." He whispered under his breath.

After dinner, Lestrade set up a tent on the beach where they could stay for the night.

"You really think that could be true?" Donovan asked. "I mean, a tornado full of sharks?"

"Of course it's not true." said Sherlock. "That's completely impossible. Angelo was just joking with us."

But that night as they all lay in their sleeping bags; all they could see in their dreams was a swirling gray mass of sharks.

For John the dreams were the worst. The dreams of his memories from Afghanistan tormented him enough, but this one was horrific. The tornado was rushing towards him, sucking him in, when all of a sudden a giant shark leapt out of the twisting mess of debris and was about to bite his head off and-

John suddenly awoke, and when he did, he realized he was cuddled next to Sherlock, buried in a cocoon under his coat. He realized Sherlock was still awake.

"Ohmygod…shit. Sherlock I'm so sorry I was having a dream about the Sharknado and I must have just-"

"It's perfectly alright." Sherlock said with a smile. "You know Angelo was just making that stuff up to scare us."

"But Sherlock…" John said. "What else could have possibly caused all that damage? I mean-"

"Don't worry about it John," Sherlock said, tucking him in under the sleeping bag. "Just get some rest."

And they both settled back down to peaceful dreams.

The next morning, as Lestrade set the photo he had taken of Sherlock and John cuddling as his phone wallpaper, Anderson looked out of the tent.

"It looks like there's a pretty bad storm coming," said Anderson. "We better pack up the tent."

"How bad?" Lestrade said, looking out of the tent. "It can't be-oh. Holy shit. Is…that…it can't."

The five of them stared out directly at a gray triangle rotating in the distance, which appeared to have something swimming in it.

Sherlock stared ahead. "Angelo was right. That's it. The Sharknado."

TO BE CONTINUED.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The First Battle

It was true. All of Angelo's bittersweet childhood tales suddenly sprung to life in front of them. The Sharknado was massive, a gray and all-destructive whirlwind of a twister matched with the bloodthirsty horror of sharks. It was a combination that could only have been invented by some drunk intern at the SyFy channel. The logical world they had always lived in seemed to shatter to into pieces that could never be put back together. But hey, maybe now this means SuperWhoLock will happen, right? right? right?

John looked up at the Sharknado with a face that people usually only get when they're about to watch someone they deeply care about jump off the side of a building. But John didn't care about these sharks. He loathed them. John's more of a tuna kind of guy, anyway.

"There's no time to run," said Lestrade. "We're going to have to fight it."

"Fight a tornado? Full of sharks? That's not even possible." Sherlock said.

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." said Anderson.

"Who the bloody hell said that?" asked John.

"I think Oprah." said Anderson.

Sherlock inhaled and then observed the situation. "What weapons do we have?"

Lestrade frowned. "Not much, I'm afraid." he said. "We have two guns, one harpoon, and a stuffed dinosaur sized riding crop."

"I guess that will do." Sherlock said. "EVERYONE ARM YOURSELVES."

Soon that dramatic and intense DU-DU-DU-DU-DUH dadadadada DUHDUHDUH chase music started playing as the Sharknado drew closer.

Sherlock took the harpoon, John and Lestrade had guns, Anderson had his tiny riding crop, and Donovan found a pool noodle.

Sherlock's eyes turned to ice as he stared at the monster of a storm before him. He was usually a fearless man, but this was different. He couldn't outwit a Sharknado. And the lives of his friends were in terrible danger.

Suddenly the twister began to rotate in front of them in the same place like some cruel illogical trick of nature. The sharks bit the air, threatening to come down any second and devour them all.

Anderson, predictably, became the first victim. A vicious shark hovered in the whirlwind of the tornado above him, threatening to end his meaningless life at any moment. Anderson held up the 5 inch long dinosaur riding crop, showing the shark he meant business. The shark snapped its teeth together threateningly, and Anderson quickly struck it across the face with his tiny riding crop. "I WOULD HAVE YOU ON THIS BEACH UNTIL YOU BEGGED FOR MERCY TWICE!" yelled Anderson. The shark raised its shark eyebrow, but in the end, wasn't really turned on by Anderson's proposition. It could sense that he was into dinosaurs. And in a split second, the shark devoured him whole.

"Wow. It was much sexier when Irene said it." Sherlock said.

"SHERLOCK!" yelled Lestrade. "ANDERSON JUST-"

"You can't help him now. We need to focus on protecting those of us who are still alive." said Sherlock, quickly eyeing John.

The twister still spun violently, the wind blowing Sherlock's coat back and forcing Sally to cling to her pool noodle.

Suddenly a shark burst into a grin much like the one Bruce had in Finding Nemo when he pretended he didn't eat fish. And the shark was staring at John.

"Hallo Mate." the shark said.

John trembled as he held up his gun. Sweat ran down his forehead and he could feel his life flash before his eyes. He held the gun up with both hands and pointed it towards the shark hovering above him in the tornado. He shivered and looked the shark right in the eye. "F-f-fuck y-youu," John managed to whisper…"I WON A BAFTAAAAA!" he screeched triumphantly, and fired a shot at the sharks head. But it was useless. The shark seemed to laugh as if the bullets hitting it were merely M&M's.

"Dr. Watson won a BAFTA?" Donovan asked.

Sherlock had never been more scared in his life. He tried to think of a way to save his friend, but his brain just wasn't working right. He had never been so emotionally involved with a problem he had to solve before. It was beautiful and terrifying.

Sherlock grabbed his harpoon. He had a small chance of surviving if he got too close, but life the way it was for him before he met John was a far worse fate to imagine.

Sherlock screamed and charged at the shark, the harpoon sinking into its body, as neon blood splattered over everything. And suddenly, as if by a miracle, the Sharknado vanished into the sky once more.

John was breathing heavily with relief, lying on the beach covered in the shark's blood.

"What are you on your period or something?" said Sherlock

"You should know I'm not a girl after you spent all night sucking my dick." said John.

"Hey!" said Lestrade. "You stole that from the story I wrote for my sister Hayley as a birthday present last year!"

(The journey is not over yet. The Sharknado will be back to claim more victims. Stay tuned folks.)


End file.
